


Daughter of Time

by NobodyWasHere



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cinderella Elements, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Golden Age (Narnia), Immortality, It’s been a while since I brushed up on my Narnia lore pls don’t hurt me, Moderate Violence, Narnia, POV Caspian (Narnia), POV Edmund Pevensie, POV Original Character, POV Peter Pevensie, Prince Caspian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobodyWasHere/pseuds/NobodyWasHere
Summary: “Why can’t you just let go, Eyra? Why are you still holding on to him? He left you.”Eyra is well-used to waiting. Trapped in a frozen waterfall for a hundred years, she waited. When the love of her life was away at war, she waited. When he disappeared, she waited.Though she is immortal, the living embodiment of Narnia, she is constantly torn; torn over duty, torn over longing, torn over the insatiable desire to be loved. But with her old lover, High King Peter, constantly just out of reach and her repressed feelings for her best friend, King Caspian, that desire feels as though it will never be satisfied.A/N: Eyra is a character I came up with when I first watched the Narnia movies as a kid. I’ve never been able to get her out of my head, so here is her imagined story, more for my benefit than anyone else’s. This isn’t a self-insert, just a character I found a place for within the beauty that is Narnia.
Relationships: Caspian (Narnia) & Original Female Character(s), Peter Pevensie/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

_ The last thing she could remember was the sting of betrayal, as the ice crawled across her body.  _

_ Jadis, her friend, her mentor. Her enemy. How could she do this? _

_ The girl remembered how the witch laughed as she pushed her over the waterfall, a shrill, maniacal cackle that rang in her ears.  _

_ Even as the girl feel into a deep slumber, that laugh echoed in her mind.  _

_ She slumbered. She waited. Her heart beat was slow, but it kept beating. There she remained, frozen in time, frozen in ice, waiting for the day the ones who would bring back spring to arrive.  _

_ And so she waited. _


	2. Chapter 2

Peter Pevensie was going to die.

That he knew. 

He also knew that would die here, in a strange land - drowned in an icy river, gutted by wolves, or murdered by an ice witch who had powers beyond his comprehension. No matter what happened, he would die. 

Standing on the shifting ice of the river, surrounded by angry wolves, he was tempted to surrender, give in - surely it would be quicker, less painful like that. But he felt Susan’s fingers gripping his shoulders so hard he feared he would bruise, and heard Lucy’s stifled sobs of terror and knew that he could not give up - not yet. 

“ _Promise me you’ll look after the others,”_ his mother whispered at the train station as she held him.

“ _I_ _will_ , _Mum_.”

That seemed so long ago, but it had only been a matter of days. What he would give to be home again with his mother!

He remembered her soft skin, calloused hands, her lavender perfume. What would she do if her children never returned?

He drew his sword. The Wolf only laughed.

“Put that down, boy,” he growled. “Someone could get hurt.”

Maybe he was right. Who was he, to play with swords?  You have no idea what you’re doing , the logical side of him snapped. He tried to ignore it. The wolf was still talking, but he sounded far away. Peter couldn’t make out a word he was saying; all he could think of to do was keep Susan and Lucy back as he fought down the panic.

Oh God, oh God, what was he going to do?

“ _Peter Pevensie.”_

He started, glancing around for who had spoken. The voice had sounded so close, as if someone were whispering in his ear.

“ _Peter Pevensie!”_ the voice sounded again, more insistent this time. 

It occurred to Peter that nobody had spoken - the sound was coming from inside his head.   


Impossible.

But impossible things had been happening all day.

He tried to focus, to reply.

“ _Who are you?”_ he thought, hardly expecting a response. There was a beat of silence. His heart plummeted. He must have only imagine it.

But then he heard it again; “ _ A friend.” _

“ _Do I know you?”_

“ _No. But I know you. I have waited a long time for you, Peter Pevensie.”_

Only a day or so ago, if Peter had been hearing voices in his head, let alone conversing with them, he would have thought he was going mad. Now, mysterious voices didn’t even make it on to the top ten list of insane things that had happened to him.

He was snapped back to reality when he heard Susan shouting at him.

“Peter, maybe we should  listen to him!”

He glanced at her, confused. He had no idea what they were talking about.

The wolf chuckled. “Smart girl.”

Beaver looked up from where he was struggling with another wolf. “Don’t listen to him! Kill him! Kill him now!”

“Oh come on,” the wolf drawled. “This isn’t your war. All my queen wants is for you to take your family and go.”

Peter didn’t even have time to take in what the wolf was saying before Susan rounded on him again.

“Look, just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword doesn’t make you a hero!” she shouted. “Just drop it!”

Peter could hear the rushing water and cracking ice. The were running out of space, veering dangerously on to weaker ice. They were running out of time. He stood no chance of taking on the wolves, and if they went into the water there would be no way to be rescued. 

He could still feel the presence of that voice, lingering in his head. Not daring to take his eyes off the wolf or lower his sword, he tried to reach out to it.

“ _Help us,”_ he pleaded silently. To his relief, the voice replied immediately.

“ _I will,”_ it answered. It was a female voice - a girl’s.  “ _But I need you to trust me, and do exactly as I say.”_

Peter didn’t even have time to consider.  “ _I will,”_ he replied.

“ _Plunge your sword into the weak ice.”_

Suddenly Peter regretted his decision to trust this voice and follow its command.

“ _What? The ice will break. We’ll drown!”_ he protested, panic seeping in again.  “ _There has to be another way.”_

“ _There is no other way. You have to break the ice. Do it, and I’ll ensure you and your sisters are brought safely to shore. But you have to do it now.”_

But Peter was panicking now, a hundred thoughts whirling through his head. Lucy wasn’t a strong swimmer. The cold would kill them. What if they got trapped under the remaining ice?

All the while, they were edging ever closer to the water.

“What’s it gonna be, son of Adam?” the wolf growled. “I won’t wait forever...”

It was getting difficult to breathe.

The voice sounded again, more urgently:  “ _Peter, you need to listen to me.”_

The wolf was still talking. “...and neither will the river!”

“ _Peter!”_ The voice urged.

Above them, a deafening groan sounded. Beside Peter, Lucy looked up, to see the icy waterfall begin to crumble.

“Peter!” she shouted.

Peter finally wrenched his eyes away from the wolf to see the waterfall crack with a quaking  boom.  He watched in horror as huge chunks of ice began to fall painstakingly, as if in slow motion. Jets of ice cold water began to spew from the cracks in the ice. It would only be a matter of seconds before the whole thing collapsed, crushing them.

The voice was in his head again, so loud it almost made him jump.

“ _PETER! DO IT, NOW!”_ it screamed. 

It snapped him from his reverie.

“Hold on to me!” he yelled, as he adjusting his sword with sweaty palms. Susan and Lucy gripped him tightly, Mrs Beaver clinging to Peter’s coat.

Peter inhaled sharply, and, raising his sword high above his head, plunged it into the ice with all the strength he could muster. To his amazement, the area of ice they were huddled on broke away from the main sheet - as if by magic. They began to float away, the wolf snapping and snarling with rage as one last deafening crack sounded from above. The Pevensies glanced up to see an enormous chunk of ice falling from above. The girls screamed as it landed in the water below,the impact creating an almost tidal wave that hurled them forward.

“ _Hold on!”_ the voice urged. Peter didn’t need any encouragement- his knuckles were already white as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

He barely had time to suck in air as the wave plunged them under water, the icy cold shocking Peter as it stung like a million knives. They were under just long enough for panic to set in and for his lungs to start to burn, when he felt an invisible force push them upwards. The Pevensies resurfaced, gasping and choking for air. They spotted the Beavers swimming towards them, hopefully to guide the ice they were on to shore.

Lucy cried out as she began to slip, her little hands unable to cling to Peter. He released the sword with one hand to try and pull her up, his fingers struggling to find purchase on her saturated coat. He kept the majority of his focus on continuing to cling to the sword - if his hand were to slip, they would all be lost.

It was all he could do to keep his teeth from chattering as the Beavers guided them to shore.

Susan was up on the bank first, staggering and spluttering. Peter turned to help Lucy up, but when he turned to help her, she wasn’t there. All that was left was the sodden fur coat, clenched in his hand.

He hadn’t even noticed her slip through his fingers.

He turned back to Susan and the Beavers, heart plummeting. It took a moment for Susan to realise what had happened. He watched as horror dawned across her face. Her gaze went from the coat, to Peter, her eyes wide and terrified. 

“What have you done?” she screamed accusingly. 

Peter was too in shock to do anything but stare, clutching the coat to his chest. Susan turned to the rushing river, hoping to catch a glimpse of her sister before it was too late. 

“Lucy!” she called, her voice shrill and panicky. “ _Lucy!”_

_What have I done?_ he thought.  _What have I done?_

“Has anyone seen my coat?” 

Peter and Susan whirled around to the source of that all to familiar voice, hardly daring to hope.

There was Lucy struggling, along the bank towards them - utterly soaked, shivering, looking as though she were near tears, and absolutely blue with cold, but she was alive.

Peter could have cried as held the coat out to her, wrapping it tightly around her and holding her close, though he wasn’t sure it would do much good - both he and the coat were just as drenched as Lucy.

“Don’t you worry dear,” Beaver said soothingly. “Your brothers got you well looked after.” 

But Lucy didn’t seem particularly worried. She beamed at her big brother, before turning back towards the way she came.

“It’s alright!” she called. “You can come out! These are my brother and sister, and our friends. You’re safe now.” 

Frowning, Peter looked up to see who Lucy was talking to. And then suddenly, a girl emerged from the bushes, stumbling, her face drawn, exhausted. She looked about Peter’s age, Her long blonde hair was plastered against her head, strands stuck across her face. Her lips were blue with cold, bringing out her eyes, which were as blue and piercing as the sky above. She wore a long sleeved blue dress made of a floaty sort of material that Peter didn’t recognise, which was glued to her body, and didn’t look like the sort of thing anyone in their right minds would wear in the depths of winter. Strapped to her back was a wooden staff, topped with a glittering mass of what looked like rough cut emerald, and impossibly balanced on her head, was a gold crown made to look like leaves and flowers. She straightened as she came to a stop a few years away from the group. All of them were staring at her, transfixed, but her gaze was solely fixed on Peter.

“Who are you?” Beaver asked menacingly. “What is your business?” 

“It’s alright!” Lucy said, stepping forward. “She helped me. One minute I was underwater, and the next she was beside me, pulling me to shore. She saved me.” 

Peter looked up at the girl, amazed. “Thank you,” he murmured. 

“That still doesn’t answer the question,” Beaver persisted. 

For the first time, the girl moved her gaze away from Peter, and towards the Beavers.

“I am Eyra, Lady of the Woods,” she said, her voice sombre. “And I serve Aslan.”


End file.
